Parenting Post Pacifier
I love being a mom. Even in the hardest moments I find joy. I make myself find joy because I wanted this. Not only did I sign up for this, I wanted it more than anything in the world. I let Clomid ravage my body and my psyche. We went through an agonizing process of background checks, fingerprinting, classes, and waiting...the God awful waiting...to have a child (all the while teenagers can be parents without any of this. Amazing). I couldn't hear news of other pregnancies without a good cry. My heart's greatest desire was to be a mother, and it's glorious. Even in the most difficult moments on the toughest days I love it.
That doesn't mean it isn't challenging. We landed in Detroit a few weeks ago after our vacation (on a Tuesday), and I noticed my son had bitten through the end of his pacifier (or "mimi" as he calls it). This isn't the first mimi he's bitten through. My son had a collection of Wubbanub pacifiers from birth. (If you aren't familiar these are the pacifiers with a stuffed animal attached.) The original five (elephant, dog, dinosaur, lion and monkey) lasted for two years. We lost the lion, but he bit through the others. He bit through the last of the original five, the elephant, in December. But he wasn't ready to be done with his mimi any more than we were ready, so I had a backup. His elephant also became a blankie of sorts. We cut off the actual pacifier, and he carries it around and snuggles with it.
He bit through two more backups in the last eight months, and we were on number three on vacation. My son didn't know that I may have purchased another backup, but we didn't give it to him. On the drive home from the airport we talked about how his mimi was broken and how we weren't going to have it anymore. We cut off the end and placed it on the bookshelf in his room.
It seemed to go almost too smoothly. The first few days were pretty easy. On Thursday my husband left for another trip, and I marveled at how easy those first few mimi-free days had been. And then came the weekend.
My son was slightly obsessed with his mimi. He had it all the time, and he used it to soothe himself incessently. If he was mad, sad, tired, etc, the mimi was his tool to calm down. With my husband out of town I quickly realized it was going to be a long weekend of learning to self soothe without his mimi.
It was a weekend of tantrums like he'd never thrown. I quickly realized he didn't know what to do without his mimi. In his frustration he'd cry or hit me (or both). It was a trying weekend for both of us and tested my patience repeatedly.
On Monday morning I was getting my son dressed for school. He hates getting dressed, and it's a regular fight. I often have to chase him (a game he finds much more amusing than I) and then basically wrestle him into clothing. On this particular day he upped the ante, kicking and hitting me over and over as I tried unsuccessfully to put shorts on him. How are small humans so strong? I threw his shorts down and walked into the other room, taking deep breaths with tears in my eyes. I was the grown up in the room, and I had to calm down. He's a two year old. It's not the first or last time he'd test my patience. It's kind of his job.
We finally got dressed that morning, and when I dropped him off at school I burst into tears while talking to his teachers. The test of wills had drained me, but my overwhelming emotion was guilt. I was so frustrated and he knew it, but I should've kept my cool. It's only dressing a toddler, right? How can that drive me to tears even later in the day?
My husband returned home that night and confirmed that an alien was clearly inhabiting the body of our usually lovely child. Life after mimi was going to take some getting used to. He's a strong willed boy, and he doesn't like not having his way (I mean who does?) The difference is at two and a half he doesn't know how to express it and isn't sure how to calm himself either. Quite the conundrum.
The last week has gotten much better, and my son is finally figuring out how to manage life without his mimi. I know this is only one of so many challenges that we will face as parents, and I'm also fully aware that it's small in the scheme of things. I continually remind myself to seek joy in the face of frustration.
I hate advice from other parents because I think so much of it is negative. When Will was a baby I was told I was "lucky" he was a good baby but that meant he'd be a "terrible" toddler. I don't know why someone would say that, but it's not true. Children aren't terrible. My son is stubborn and strong willed and cuddly and loving and hilarious. Being his mom is the greatest joy of my life, and I wouldn't change even the toughest moments. I think I'm sadder for the mimi phase to be over than my son. It's the end of a baby era, and I see him growing up. He's got his own opinions (so many!) and a fantastic personality. Getting rid of the mimi is only a step of growing up, and I look forward to every other step along the way...even the moments accompanied by tantrums.
That doesn't mean it isn't challenging. We landed in Detroit a few weeks ago after our vacation (on a Tuesday), and I noticed my son had bitten through the end of his pacifier (or "mimi" as he calls it). This isn't the first mimi he's bitten through. My son had a collection of Wubbanub pacifiers from birth. (If you aren't familiar these are the pacifiers with a stuffed animal attached.) The original five (elephant, dog, dinosaur, lion and monkey) lasted for two years. We lost the lion, but he bit through the others. He bit through the last of the original five, the elephant, in December. But he wasn't ready to be done with his mimi any more than we were ready, so I had a backup. His elephant also became a blankie of sorts. We cut off the actual pacifier, and he carries it around and snuggles with it.
He bit through two more backups in the last eight months, and we were on number three on vacation. My son didn't know that I may have purchased another backup, but we didn't give it to him. On the drive home from the airport we talked about how his mimi was broken and how we weren't going to have it anymore. We cut off the end and placed it on the bookshelf in his room.
It seemed to go almost too smoothly. The first few days were pretty easy. On Thursday my husband left for another trip, and I marveled at how easy those first few mimi-free days had been. And then came the weekend.
My son was slightly obsessed with his mimi. He had it all the time, and he used it to soothe himself incessently. If he was mad, sad, tired, etc, the mimi was his tool to calm down. With my husband out of town I quickly realized it was going to be a long weekend of learning to self soothe without his mimi.
It was a weekend of tantrums like he'd never thrown. I quickly realized he didn't know what to do without his mimi. In his frustration he'd cry or hit me (or both). It was a trying weekend for both of us and tested my patience repeatedly.
On Monday morning I was getting my son dressed for school. He hates getting dressed, and it's a regular fight. I often have to chase him (a game he finds much more amusing than I) and then basically wrestle him into clothing. On this particular day he upped the ante, kicking and hitting me over and over as I tried unsuccessfully to put shorts on him. How are small humans so strong? I threw his shorts down and walked into the other room, taking deep breaths with tears in my eyes. I was the grown up in the room, and I had to calm down. He's a two year old. It's not the first or last time he'd test my patience. It's kind of his job.
We finally got dressed that morning, and when I dropped him off at school I burst into tears while talking to his teachers. The test of wills had drained me, but my overwhelming emotion was guilt. I was so frustrated and he knew it, but I should've kept my cool. It's only dressing a toddler, right? How can that drive me to tears even later in the day?
My husband returned home that night and confirmed that an alien was clearly inhabiting the body of our usually lovely child. Life after mimi was going to take some getting used to. He's a strong willed boy, and he doesn't like not having his way (I mean who does?) The difference is at two and a half he doesn't know how to express it and isn't sure how to calm himself either. Quite the conundrum.
The last week has gotten much better, and my son is finally figuring out how to manage life without his mimi. I know this is only one of so many challenges that we will face as parents, and I'm also fully aware that it's small in the scheme of things. I continually remind myself to seek joy in the face of frustration.
I hate advice from other parents because I think so much of it is negative. When Will was a baby I was told I was "lucky" he was a good baby but that meant he'd be a "terrible" toddler. I don't know why someone would say that, but it's not true. Children aren't terrible. My son is stubborn and strong willed and cuddly and loving and hilarious. Being his mom is the greatest joy of my life, and I wouldn't change even the toughest moments. I think I'm sadder for the mimi phase to be over than my son. It's the end of a baby era, and I see him growing up. He's got his own opinions (so many!) and a fantastic personality. Getting rid of the mimi is only a step of growing up, and I look forward to every other step along the way...even the moments accompanied by tantrums.
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| This face. This joy. |
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